


touchin' (like we know each other)

by sepiacigarettes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Shiro (Voltron), Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hand Jobs, Library Sex, M/M, Meet Horny?, Meet-Cute, Praise Kink if you squint, Semi-Public Sex, Shiro is a flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 06:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepiacigarettes/pseuds/sepiacigarettes
Summary: The Altean before him is six foot four and one hundred percent muscle. Messenger bag slung over his shoulder with an Altean prosthetic arm, his hair is starlight silver and his Altean markings glow cerulean. He looks like one of those models in theDaibazaal Cosmic,ones with perfect hair and airbrushed skin.Keith looks down at the blurry profile photo on his pad, then back up to the Altean god before him. “Shiro?”“One and only,” the Altean grins, and stars, he even has dimples.in which Keith meets Shiro to study, and ends up on his knees instead
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 233
Collections: Sheithlentines 2021





	touchin' (like we know each other)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ragdollrory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragdollrory/gifts).



> a sheithlentines pinch hit for the wonderful [rory](https://twitter.com/ragdollrory/), to whom i owe many hearts
> 
> I ran away with your prompt of a College AU with Altean Shiro and Galra Keith; happy sheithlentines, lovely ❤️🖤

> Face to face 
> 
> Eyes to eyes 
> 
> The breathtaking mood 
> 
> The slight tension that leads us 
> 
> Stealing everything with gazes 
> 
> With no time to spare I want to hold you 
> 
> Now we
> 
> **Touchin’ like we know each other**
> 
> I can’t wait any longer 
> 
> If you feel the same way...  
> 
> 
> — Daniel Kang, _Touchin'_

— K —

“Keith?”

Keith glances up. The Altean before him is six foot four and one hundred percent muscle. Messenger bag slung over his shoulder with an Altean prosthetic arm, his hair is starlight silver and his Altean markings glow cerulean. He looks like one of those models in the  _ Daibazaal Cosmic,  _ ones with perfect hair and airbrushed skin.

Keith looks down at the blurry profile photo on his pad, then back up to the Altean god before him. “Shiro?”

“One and only,” the Altean grins, and stars, he even has dimples.

Keith’s mother always said they were something Alteans shared with the more primitive Terrans, an anomaly that the Galra bred out of their bloodlines five hundred decophoebs ago. Looking at Shiro, Keith can’t understand why, when they’re so attractive.

The Altean fluffs up his fringe. “Thanks for meeting me.”

Keith nods slowly, watching dumbly as Shiro takes a seat opposite him and opens his bag. “Sure. Um. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting...”

Shiro pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and it’s  _ very  _ distracting. Keith’s face feels hot.

“You,” he finishes lamely.

Shiro’s brows pull together. “We were meeting at five, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith says. “Yeah, just. You look nothing like your profile.”

Shiro laughs. It’s a lovely sound. “Yeah, sorry, that one is really old. I haven’t changed it in forever.”

Keith tilts his head. “And you don’t have an Altean accent.”

“Remnant from spending my first few years on Terra.” Shiro sets up his pad, then peers over the top at Keith. “You’re the first Galra I’ve met.”

Keith warms under the scrutiny of Shiro’s gaze. It doesn’t feel like a bad thing. “There aren’t many of us here,” he explains. “But my family is big on alien relations and I want to end up somewhere in the humanitarian field. So I came to Altea.”

Shiro leans forward. They’re supposed to be meeting to study the course that Keith is struggling with, not each other, except Keith wants to indulge the Altean. It’s not every quintant you have the undivided attention of someone so beautiful.

“You Galra have really complex family systems, don’t you?”

Keith wrinkles his nose. “Maybe? It’s more of a network than a unit. We exist on an honour system, so even if you’re not a direct blood relation, there are still unwritten rules you have to follow, favours you have to grant.”

“What kind of favours are we talking about?” Shiro says, and it takes Keith a moment to realise he’s teasing.

Keith blinks, suddenly sideswiped all over again. “Um. Yes.”

Shiro beams at him like he just said the most humorous joke. “Sorry, you’re just. Not what I was expecting, either.”

Keith bristles at that momentarily, before he takes in the slow drag of Shiro’s eyes roaming over his body, lingering on his hands, his mouth, his cheeks.

Oh.

That’s… new.

It’s not a terrible way to spend his evening.

In fact it’s a very productive one.

First, Shiro takes a varga walking Keith through his latest Comm Skills tutorial work and picking out where Keith’s been fucking up, and then he spends a decent amount of time talking through the first upcoming assignment.

Then Keith, self-conscious of the way Shiro keeps smiling at him, keeps making him laugh, keeps  _ looking  _ at him, blurts out some excuse about searching for a textbook.

“I’ll help,” Shiro says easily.

“Okay,” Keith says even though he wants to throw up instead, and he flees to the nearest aisle.

The floor is carpeted but Keith can still sense every footstep of Shiro behind him, and he flits his eyes over the shelves, wondering what kind of a title he can look for to use to fortify his excuse.

“What book is it?” Shiro says, and gods, Keith’s anxiety climbs even further.

“Um,” he says, heart clawing its way up his throat. “Can’t remember.”

Shiro laughs, and Keith’s knees feel weak.

“Keith,” Shiro murmurs. “Why are we really here?”

Fight or flight response definitely activated, Keith weighs up his options. Then he hears his family’s motto blaring through his head:  _ Knowledge or Death. _ Fuck.

“Um,” he says, looking everywhere but Shiro. Were the aisles always this narrow? When did Shiro get so close? “You’re just… a lot.”

Shiro pauses. “In a good way or bad way?”

“Good,” Keith says, allowing his eyes to slide over the slope of Shiro’s shoulders, the curve of his cheekbones. “Really good.”

“Oh.” The tension in Shiro’s shoulders dissipates. “I mean. You too. You’re good. Super good.”

Keith can’t help it, he laughs at the two of them. “I’m not really good with people I don’t know.”

“I think you’re doing perfect,” Shiro says, and it’s so earnest, Keith feels like he’s been hit.

“Are… are you always like this?”

“Never,” Shiro shakes his head, stepping towards Keith again. “Never met anyone like you before.”

And he keeps walking, right into Keith’s space until he’s backed up against the bookshelves with nowhere to go.

“Tell me if this isn’t okay,” he says, ducking his face in as close as possible without kissing Keith and Keith— really  _ really  _ wants him to.

So he nods and says, “It’s okay,” and that’s all he needs to.

Shiro is upon him in the next moment, mouth descending on his as his hands find Keith’s chest and neck. They’re so big and warm against his skin and Keith melts a little being at the behest of someone as huge and kindhearted as Shiro. Shiro, the giant Altean he met only two hours ago.

Not the most orthodox way to get with someone, but Keith isn’t complaining, not when he’s being shoved into the bookshelf and kissed so thoroughly. And Shiro is  _ thorough;  _ apparently his prowess as a diligent student also extends to this, and Keith is lost underneath miles of muscle and Shiro’s slick mouth.

The library is deserted at this time, everyone would have gone home by now. It’s not late enough in the semester for anyone to be sticking around at this hour. Keith’s grateful for that; he can’t stop making noises as Shiro attacks his jaw and neck, and when he seals his lips over the sensitive spot beneath Keith’s ear, he has to bury his face in Shiro’s shoulder to keep from making an embarrassing sound.

Neither of them talk. Instead it seems like they both know exactly what the other wants, with Shiro slotting a thigh between Keith’s for him to conveniently rut down onto while one of his big big hands grab Keith’s hip and drag him in time with Shiro’s own thrusts.

There’s nothing but the hot heavy sounds of their mouths, and Shiro panting against his lips, and the languid slide of his tongue on Keith’s, and the shine in his eyes when Keith’s open long enough to take stock of their situation.

“I’ve been watching you,” Shiro admits, tucking his face into Keith’s neck as he encourages Keith’s hips to roll with his. “For weeks, thought I’d never get the chance to talk to you.”

Keith can’t wrap his head around that, honestly. Shiro is six foot four of muscle and a smile that is incredibly devastating. Keith is considerably shorter and smiles far less, if anything, his scowl is a permanent fixture.

But Shiro is whimpering in his ear and saying more things, like, “I’m so glad it turned out to be you,” and, “Allura kept calling me an idiot,” and, “move your hips a little—yeah, that’s it— _ uhn—” _

And Keith never really considered the library to be the place where he was going to get on his knees for this beautiful boy, but he’s been wrong in the past and he’s not about to let this bruise his ego. The only thing that’s going to be bruised at the end of this are his knees.

Shiro watches him sink down, eyes blowing wide. He cranes his neck, watches to see if anyone is going to find them here, but it’s impossible, the only people who could get in now are fellow students and who in their right mind is going to be here in the first week of summer semester?

_ Apart from us, _ Keith’s mind supplies, but he doesn’t pay it any attention, instead leaning forward to press his face to Shiro’s trousers. He can feel his dick through the thin straining material and he takes a moment to inhale carefully through his nose, grounding himself.

He’s really going to do this, fuck.

Shiro’s hand sweeps into his hair, brushes it from his eyes. He doesn’t push or pull, just holds it, like he knows the war currently going on in Keith’s head. Because it’s risky, hooking up with someone he barely knows and in the fucking library of all places, but at the same time they’re both way too far past the point of no return to turn back now.

“You’re gorgeous,” Shiro whispers, laughing breathlessly.

Keith’s absolutely gone for him.

The sound of Keith pulling down Shiro’s zipper feels like he’s dropping concrete blocks in the middle of a deserted warehouse with how loud it sounds, but then he’s eyeing the large damp patch on the front of Shiro’s boxer briefs and he can’t find it in himself to care. Two hands land in his hair now, gentle and encouraging, freeing up his face as he leans in and licks up the length through Shiro’s boxer briefs.

Shiro gasps quietly at that and Keith shivers.

He pulls Shiro’s length out, so much bigger now that it’s not hindered by layers of clothing, and has to take a second to confirm that yes, it’s real, because what the fuck. He’s going to die if he ever takes the whole thing inside of him, and Keith  _ really  _ wants that.

Another time, next time, maybe, hopefully. He really hopes so.

Keith strokes it a couple of times to steel his nerves, and then wraps his lips around the head. It’s damp with sweat and precome and Keith’s crude imitation of a kiss has Shiro making another aborted sound that just does  _ something  _ to Keith.

“Easy,” Shiro says, even though he’s the one who looks like he’s going to lose it all from a few quick licks. “Do what you want.”

Keith nods, stroking it again as he licks along the underside, trying to make the slide of it easier over his lips. The second time he takes Shiro into his mouth is much slicker and Keith keeps going until Shiro bumps up against the roof of his mouth, before he angles his head properly and takes him all the way to the back of his throat.

“Fucking stars,” Shiro hisses, Altean hand clenching the bookshelf in front of them so hard, Keith wonders if it will break. “Oh gods.”

Keith would smile if he could, except his mouth is stuffed with cock, so he settles for looking up through his lashes and letting Shiro sit there for a moment, basking in the heavy weight of him on his tongue. Shiro’s panting when Keith draws back, before he sinks down once more and Shiro’s cockhead is teasing the line bewteen comfortable and Keith’s gag reflex.

A whine comes out, nearly too loud for the quiet of the room. Keith bares his teeth a little at that, lets them scrape gently against the underside of Shiro’s cock in warning, before inhaling deep through his nose and pushing down once more. This time he doesn’t stop at the back, just shuts his eyes and keeps going down down down until his chest heaves.

Shiro hisses again, and then he moans. He buries his face in the forearm braced against the bookshelf, makes a noise that is halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“This is going to be quick,” he mutters, before his hips stutter forward when Keith wind his tongue around the base of him. “Fuck.”

A hand finds its way into Keith’s hair again, tugging lightly this time. Shiro withdraws, pushes back in again and Keith figures he can go with this too, just resting there on his knees and letting Shiro begin to fuck his face.

He’s gentle about it, rocking carefully into Keith’s mouth, dick bumping up against the back of Keith’s throat until Keith’s gag reflex kicks in again and his eyes water.

But Shiro doesn’t stop.

His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide as he fucks Keith’s mouth firmer, a little less careful. “You can take it,” he mumbles, hand tightening in Keith’s hair to keep him in place. “You can be good.”

Keith happily lets him.

His jaw aches and his lips are sore from covering his teeth; Shiro’s dick thrusting in and out of his mouth is making it feel swollen and used and that’s kind of hot too, knowing that after this, Shiro will tuck himself back into his pants and they’ll both return to their desk with rumpled clothes and hair and act like Shiro didn’t just use him like he currently is.

Keith’s fingers find the loops of Shiro’s pants and hook into them to keep him close, not daring to move his head and fuck up the steady cadence Shiro has fallen into, but instead shortening the distance Shiro leaves. It’s almost nice, having his mouth full as often as possible like this.

The ground is hard and painful beneath Keith’s knees, his neck is beginning to hurt from being forced into this position, but he can feel the tremble of Shiro’s thighs, and the way his breaths are stuttering over each other, and the way the rhythm is becoming more and more erratic with each passing sentence.

All of a sudden Shiro gasps, wrenching himself away, surprising Keith enough that he falls forward and has to brace himself on Shiro’s powerful thighs.

“Look at me,” Shiro commands softly, and his big hand is stroking his cock. “Eyes on me, that’s it, baby, open your mouth for me?”

Keith blinks the wetness from his eyes, tries his best to hold Shiro’s gaze, because he doesn’t like eye contact in the slightest but there’s not a lot of things he wouldn’t do for this gigantic hunk with a heart of gold.

And the approval in Shiro’s grey eyes makes every second of the contact worth it, makes Keith open his mouth without thought or question and dig his nails into Shiro’s thighs.

He won’t beg, they’re already risking far too much being out in the open like this, but maybe later, maybe next time, maybe—

And then the first drop hits his tongue and Keith’s entire world narrows down to that instead.

“Keith,” Shiro whimpers as he comes all over Keith’s mouth, a string hitting Keith’s chin and when Keith’s tongue darts out to catch it reflexively, Shiro shudders and his hips jerk forward again. The swell of his chest is borderline obscene as Shiro shudders through his orgasm. Keith feels as though he’s pinned to the floor on his knees like an Arusian dragonfly on a board.

“Holy shit,” Shiro laughs again when he’s finally calming, thumbing at the rest that Keith failed to get and pushing it into his mouth. “You’re amazing, what the fuck.”

Keith beams up at him, the praise sinking underneath his skin all golden and addictive. His knees are screaming at him to get up, but Shiro joins him on the floor instead. He leans against the opposing bookshelf and then two big hands land on Keith’s waist and drag him into Shiro’s lap. Keith’s body runs hot and cold at how easily Shiro manhandles him into position, and then he’s being kissed again.

“Shiro—” he protests, before Shiro’s hand snakes up to hold him by the nape of his neck. “The taste—”

“Give it to me,” Shiro interrupts, and it’s so ridiculous that Keith ruins the next few kisses because he’s smiling too hard.

Of course he’s the type of person to fuck Keith’s face and come on it, and then lick it from Keith’s mouth afterwards.

“Your turn,” Shiro whispers, and Keith shakes his head because  _ surely  _ someone is going to walk in on them if they keep this up, it’s a miracle they weren’t caught with Keith on his knees.

But Shiro just shushes him and strokes his Altean hand over Keith’s chest, flicks his thumb over the sensitive nipple there and pushes his tongue into Keith’s mouth. “Still okay?”

Keith figures his body speaks well enough for him, if the way he presses closer to Shiro and winds his arms around his neck is any indication. “So okay.”

“Good,” Shiro murmurs, Altean hand slipping into Keith’s waistband.

Keith is dripping wet and the first stroke of Shiro’s hand is silky smooth. “Shit,” he mumbles, burying his face in Shiro’s throat.

“Good?” Shiro asks.

He doesn’t need to. Keith’s hips are bucking up into his touch, his claws are digging into the meat of Shiro’s shoulders.

“You’re stunning,” Shiro says as he jerks Keith off, careless of Keith’s fangs, of the way Keith’s vision has gone blurry gold. “So stunning, what the fuck, Keith.”

“Shiro,” Keith chirps back, feeling the haze of his orgasm pressing behind his eyes, building between his legs.

Keith lasts even less than Shiro.

He comes all over Shiro’s hand, trembling against Shiro’s strong chest, teeth sinking into Shiro’s throat.

Everything comes back slowly. The roar in Keith’s ears dies down, and he can feel his teeth retracting back to normal. Beneath him, Shiro still looks like something straight out of  _ Vogue Altea. _

Keith has no idea what to say.

And then his stomach rumbles.

Shiro snorts, and then he laughs, and then Keith is hitting him and pushing a hand over his mouth. “Shut up,” he hisses, trying to keep his own laughter in. “Do you want everyone to hear?”

Shiro rubs a thumb over Keith’s hipbone slowly, and somehow that’s more intimate than what they just did. “No one’s here, baby, just us.”

Keith really likes the way Shiro looks at him. He leans forward and pecks him quickly, unsure what else to do.

Luckily, Shiro takes charge of the situation.

“Um,” he says, flushing a pretty pink. “Can I take you to dinner now?”

**Author's Note:**

> come bug me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sepiacigarettes/) if you like


End file.
